


Cattitude

by muchmorethanaprincess



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pet fic, cat fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7021246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchmorethanaprincess/pseuds/muchmorethanaprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BFF fill for the prompt: "octavia persuades bellamy to get a cat because it'll be a lot less work than a dog, but his cat is the most affectionate cat ever, and suddenly clarke is around to see the cat All The Time"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cattitude

Bellamy decides to get a cat on the logic that he's not sure he has the energy to be a dog person. Cats don't require daily walks, they're litter box trained, and they clean themselves. 

So he goes to the rescue area of Petsmart, just to look. He's not quite sure what he wants, but when he sees her—a mostly black, huge cat that looks like it hasn't moved from it's cushy bed in the last twelve hours—all he can think is that she seems like she just needs a couch to hang out on.

He calls the number of the rescue organization, and meets with the lady in charge, somehow convincing her that he would be a responsible cat owner despite never having had one in his life. His description of himself as a teacher who spends a lot of time at home seems to catch her interest, and from there it's just paperwork and her giving him advice via the cat's foster people. 

He calls Clarke on the way home, the cat yowling in a cardboard pet box in front of his passenger seat.

"Hey what's up? What _is_ that?" she asks instantly.

" _That_ is my new best friend."

"You're replacing me?" she says, feigning despondence. "What will I do?"

"Actually, now that I think of it, she'll probably be your new best friend. That's my cat."

"You got a cat."

"Yep. She's like, fifteen pounds, and she looks like she's vaguely irritated at the world all the time, and she's lovingly known as ‘Pretty Kitty,’ so we've gotta change that shit, obviously."

Clarke sputters out a laugh.

"Yeah her owner was probably some old lady that died or something, with a name like that. She's seven, and I know older cats don't get adopted as much, and she’s been at the rescue for a long time, so I figured I would give her a good home. She's not very active, so she won't need a lot of space, which is perfect for my apartment."

Clarke _awws_ and tells him that she'll come over to meet her once he's home.

 

Clarke starts laughing hysterically when she opens the cat box and peers inside.

"She's huge!"

"I told you!"

"For some reason I couldn't quite picture it until this moment."

Clarke reaches in to scoop her out, and Bellamy tries to warn her because she _hated_ being moved in the pet shop, but before he can say anything the cat has curled into Clarke easily.

"Are you serious," Bellamy says flatly.

"What?" Clarke is the picture of innocence, stroking the cat softly so her eyes close.

"You're going to steal all of my cat's love and attention, aren't you? She already likes you better than me and it's been like two minutes."

"Oh chill out, she'll like you once she realizes you're her food source."

"Great," he mutters, as Clarke settles into the couch with the cat on her lap.

 

His prediction is eerily accurate. The cat, who he's renamed Andy, settles in nicely at his place. He gets her into an easy feeding routine a few times a day, with dry food out for whenever she wants, and she claims a perch on the back of his couch where she can watch over her little kingdom of the living room.

She doesn’t demand a lot of attention from him, only occasionally curling up next to him while he reads in his armchair, and the way he sees it, _allowing_ him to pet her. She rubs against his legs sometimes, but that’s about as affectionate as she gets.

Until Clarke comes over.

Andy _loves_ Clarke. She trots over the second Clarke walks through the front door, she meows excitedly until she has Clarke’s attention, and once Clarke’s seated, she nudges at her hand until she pets and scratches her.

“I can’t believe this,” Bellamy grumbles, on the third night in a row that Clarke’s shown up to see the cat. They’re settled on the couch, and Andy is nosing at Clarke’s chin while she giggles.

“Believe what?”

“You’ve totally hijacked my cat!”

Clarke bursts out laughing, startling Andy, who jumps off her lap and walks away coldly.

“Aw, look what you did!”

“It’s my cat, I’ll scare her if I want to,” he mutters, and Clarke shoots him a weird look.

“Yeah, okay. Look, it’s not your fault you’re not a cat person and she knows it. She can just sense the cat lover on me. She _knows_ about all the cat experience I have. You, on the other hand—” she jokes, cutting off when he shoves her gently.

“Alright, alright, I have to go home anyway.”

She stands, her shirt riding up so he can see her bare stomach and her sweatpants hanging tantalizingly on her hips. It’s distracting.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” she calls, and walks out the door and across the hall to her own apartment.

 

The upside of Andy liking Clarke better than him is that the feeling seems to be mutual, and Clarke ends up at his apartment _way_ more often than she did before. She’ll knock on his door just to say, “I had a bad day, I need some kitty cuddles,” before barging in and making herself at home. And he really, really doesn’t mind that part.

More time with Clarke is great. If he’d known that getting a cat was such an easy way to have her on his couch all the time, he would have done it ages ago. But it’s also a slow kind of torture, to have Clarke showing up in her pajamas in the evening, spending so many hours in his apartment, casual and comfortable and acting like it’s completely normal.

It is normal. It’s just that Bellamy’s really really attracted to her, and he hasn't done anything about it. So he’s hyper-aware of her, and grumpy that his cat likes her better than him, but also grumpy that the reverse seems to be true.

 

“I can't tell if you're jealous of me, or the cat.”

It’s a Saturday morning. Clarke slept on the couch last night, because she fell asleep while they were watching Netflix, and when he nudged her awake to go home she swatted him away and said, “just let me sleep,” in her cute irritated voice.

Andy’s settled next to her, curled up into Clarke’s side. She strokes her softly.

Bellamy hadn't realized she was awake, hadn't even fully realized he was staring at the pair of them until Clarke spoke.

“Uh.” He scratches at the back of his neck, unsure how to respond.

She sits up, moving Andy gently. “Damn Blake, no need to make it weird. You can just say you’re jealous of me and we’ll forget I even suggested the other part.”

“I, uh—” he cuts off, unable to look at her. She’s wearing Nike shorts, and the blanket covering her falls when she stands up, and there’s just, a lot of leg assaulting his thoughts right now. But Clarke’s also casually suggesting that he might be jealous that _she_ herself isn't being affectionate with him, and that feels like a lead in that maybe he should take. Since she handed it right to him.

“And if I am jealous of my cat?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

She tilts her head, a small, sly smile lighting her face as she steps toward him.

“I would tell you that you don't need to be.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” His hands find her waist, barely touching her, testing the waters. She puts her small hands on his forearms and steps into him.

“Because if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”

He has to take a moment, because Clarke is being very blatant, and he needs to reassure himself that he’s not somehow reading this all incorrectly. But—no, the bedroom eyes Clarke is giving him are definitely not open to interpretation.

“Well then,” he says gruffly, catching her lips and pushing her back onto the couch. She smiles against his mouth and kisses back as hard as he is.

“You’ve been spending so much damn time with my cat, I was going crazy,” he says, when they pull away.

Clarke laughs brightly. “No you idiot, I wasn't here for the cat, I was here for you!”

“What?”

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Andy, but she was just a convenient excuse to spend more time with you.”

“Oh.” Bellamy reevaluates the last month in his head. “Jesus.”

He leans in to kiss her again, but before they can really get started, Andy howls from the hallway.

Bellamy sighs. “I have to feed her.”

Clarke grins. “We have the best cat in the world.”

“Oh she’s _our_ cat now?” Bellamy asks, amusement in his voice.

“Yep. I'm claiming her. She belongs to both of us.”

Bellamy kisses her shoulder before standing up. “I guess I can deal with that.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are wildly appreciated!


End file.
